


'Patricide'

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Barebacking, Drinking, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Size Kink, Slade is cis sorry, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24841075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: After discovering his dad has brought him along just to spend time with him, Joey tells Slade if he wants to spend time together, he can do it on Joey's terms instead. Things progress faster than Joey intended.
Relationships: Joseph Wilson/Slade Wilson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	'Patricide'

The realization of what's happening hits Joey out of nowhere. 

So, of course, he decides to return the favor. He smacks the binoculars away from his father's face and Slade, for a brief moment, is perfectly still before he turns to look at Joey. They're both quiet for a moment before Slade reaches to pick the binoculars back up and assess them for damage. 

"Is there a problem, Joseph?" he asks blandly. Joey's ikon suit keeps him warm enough but it's still a chilly night and he's not only sore from running around all day but from laying on the gravely rooftop for nearly an hour now. He'd say from chasing down a 'bad guy', who his father assured him wouldn't be anyone Joey would have any argument about, but between his father hating sharing information and just generally not talking, it feels more like Joey's spent the day chasing Slade down instead. He barely knows what they're doing let alone who they're after, despite multiple times asking, but Slade had actually _asked_ for Joey's help so of course he helped. That really should have been his first hint that something was off. 

"Did you bring me along just to spend time with me?" Joey signs irritably. Slade stares at him a few more seconds before going back to looking through his binoculars. Joey grabs them and chucks them angrily off the roof. Slade gives him a nasty look that's surely a warning that Joey's on thin ice but Joey stopped being afraid of his father after the oxy incident. Twenty five years before he stopped being afraid of his own damn father. 

"I 'brought you along' for support," Slade replies. Joey gets to his feet irritably and brushes the gravel off of himself.

"You're a child," he signs. "You know, I should have expected this and yet here I am, infuriated anyways. You couldn't just come spend time with me like a normal father, could you? Have dinner maybe? _Talk_? No, you had to drag me along on this wild goose chase and make me _guess_ what we're doing at any given moment." Slade glances down at the house they're watching again which, far be it from him to know, may not even _be_ anything. Not that his father would ever turn down an opportunity to multitask. He probably sees this like some sort of fucked up hunting trip or something. Sit in the woods silently and hold a gun until you kill something together and call it bonding. Joey can't believe he fell for this. 

"You don't even know anything about me to spend time with me, do you?" Joey continues while his father says nothing. "This might work on Rose but, shockingly pops, I have a real life to live. You want to spend time with me? Here's an idea, why don't you come to the gallery that's showing my work. You know, that art you think is a waste of time?" 

"I don't think it's a waste of time," Slade murmurs lamely. 

"This Saturday. 7:30pm at the Westend Art Gallery," Joey signs. "If you think you can make the time in your precious manhunt." He doesn't give his father much time to reply mainly because he's not looking for one. Either Slade's going to tell him he's not going or he'll lie and say he is and either way Joey just ends up disappointed again. It's been too long for Slade to try being a dad to him now. Whatever it is he's doing or _pretending_ to do, Joey leaves him to do it by himself. He needs a shower and a nap. 

Needless to say, Joey is quick to put the whole thing at the back of his mind and forget about it. Instead, he focuses on putting the last touches on all of his works for the coming Saturday and unsurprisingly, his father doesn't bother him the entire time. By the time the night finally comes around, Joey has all but forgotten about the angry one sided spat on the roof. With everything going well and people starting to flitter in to view, he happily mingles with some friends. 

Slade showing up at all is surprising but especially so early. Joey sees him at the door the second he arrives- it's not like he's particularly hard to spot in a crowd even if he's done his best to blend in to the dressing attire. The receptionist stops him almost immediately and prevents him from walking inside with some others. 

"Non disabled tickets are one fifty," he says rather curtly. Slade stares at him from his one good eye. Joey can't tell for sure what his father is thinking; if he's deciding which way he wants to approach this or is waiting for the man to realise he doesn't have an eye. Ultimately, he just takes out his wallet and hands the man money for a ticket. He takes his ticket and resumes his way inside. Joey can't help but huff an amused noise. The receptionist usually doesn't stop people but Slade's just overall entitled aura paired with him trying to walk in without even acknowledging the receptionist likely got him on another bad side. As if that's new. His father's always been best at making enemies. 

"Do you know him?" Kenneth asks curiously. Joey shrugs. 

"He's my dad," he signs. 

"You have a sugar daddy? No wonder you have so much time to do this stuff," Kenneth murmurs, vaguely impressed. "And he's hot? Dang." 

"He's my biological father," Joey corrects. Kenneth decides to busy his mouth with cheese as opposed to saying anything else. Joey watches as Slade spots him but doesn't approach him outright. Instead, be wandering off to start viewing some of the art. Not trusting his dad to be alone long in a place like this, Joey grabs a new glass of wine and comes over to join him. Slade looks in his direction briefly before going back to staring at a painting. Joey turns his sub vocal mic on. He much prefers just plain hand sign but the mic is useful for engaging with people who are visually disabled- like his father. 

"Why are you here?" Joey asks.

"You told me to come," Slade replies. 

"When have you taken anything I've said into consideration?" Joey replies mildly. Slade doesn't say anything and, after a moment, Joey hands him a glass of wine as well- knowing it doesn't affect him. He was angry before, of course, but it's passed now and he's ready to enjoy his dad's company for as brief, or as briefly _good_ , it may be. He's sure Slade has some ulterior motives for being here but that can come later. 

"Robert Mars," Joey says, gesturing to the painting Slade is staring at. "PTSD. He got a good part of his leg taken off in Iraq. This painting is how he felt when he saw his kids again." He knows his father doesn't know what Joey does in his daily life or if he does, by a technical sense, he doesn't understand it. Slade takes a long drink without saying anything. Joey also knows his father doesn't really 'get' art. They walk a bit to the next one. 

"Cynthia Stowells," he goes on. "Parkinson's. Painting of her dog." Slade tilts his head curiously and Joey gives him a small swat to deter him. He straightens up again, looks around for something more interesting, and decides on the cheese platter wandering around. Joey follows him as he briefly looks around at some others.

"This is what you do all day? Paint with disabled people?" Slade asks and for as rough as the question sounds, he likely means it legitimately.

"No, these were made by our teachers and mentors for the fundraiser," Joey says. "What I do all day is help teach disabled queer youths." He can't say his dad ever _flinches_ per say but he does seem to withhold a wince and take the opportunity to drink. He's not sure if it's for Joey bringing up the fact that he's queer or Slade associating it with his own father's abuse. Slade has never really had much of a reaction to Joey being trans or gay which, sometimes, Joey is grateful for, but he always seems distinctly uncomfortable about drawing attention to it. Presumably because Joey knows for a fact Slade is, at least in some way, attracted to men, too and like most things, doesn't really know how to talk about it or anything else. 

Joey also knows his father may have been rough on them but his grandfather was even rougher on Slade.

"Weren't you running a business for your mother?" Slade asks. 

"Yeah," Joey says and he snorts. "Almost two years ago, now. I appreciated it, it kept me comfortable, but I didn't like it. I told her I was going to do something I cared about and she supported me." He doesn't mean that to mean Slade _wouldn_ 't have but it's not totally wrong, either. His father has changed a lot in the last few years but even now, he doesn't really 'get' it and he doesn't really 'give support'. If his dad doesn't bother him about something or, god forbid, try to step in to stop it, Joey presumes he has his father's silent agreement or at the very least, that he doesn't care. 

"You like doing this?" Slade asks. Joey nods. 

"I like art. I like showing kids that there's people like them and the bad times they're going through aren't the end of the world; just times that are bad," he explains. He doesn't know if his dad 'gets' it. He just drinks more wine and has another piece of cheese and looks around. Joey laughs quietly and Slade glances at him. 

"Where's yours?" he asks. 

"Don't buy anything," Joey replies mildly. "If you want to make a donation, I won't stop you, but I don't want you buying one of my paintings and shoving it away somewhere to forget about." Again, Slade doesn't really respond and again, Joey can't say for sure why that is. He gestures his dad to follow him towards the back of the gallery. 

"I sold three last year," Joey says. He's not sure if he's still looking for his father's praise or just wants to prove that he is, actually, successful at what he does but regardless, Slade doesn't react. Of course. Honestly, Joey should be glad considering when his father _does_ usually react, it's to be scathing and dismissive. "That's good, pops. Most people are lucky to sell one, especially in New York." 

"Good," Slade says- awkwardly. Just to get Joey to be quiet, probably. Joey takes a long drink from his wine, finishes the glass off, and exchanges it for a full one passing by. He stands aside to mingle with some potential donors while his dad looks at his paintings. Joey is actually very good at convincing people to buy paintings at functions like this but typically he doesn't hype up his own work. He's a people person and he's charming so flirting a painting into a rich man's pocket has easily become second nature to him. It's why they always ask him to set up these events and, of course, attend them. It makes good money for their classes. 

Slade comes back around when Joey is alone again. They're both quiet for a few more seconds during which Joey helps himself to more wine. 

"They're good," Slade finally says. As much as Joey knows not to expect much from his father, knows this is probably the closest thing to praise he'll get, he's still left wanting. 

"Thanks," Joey says dryly though his mic doesn't really pick it up. 

"Very Renaissance," Slade murmurs. His dad's trying to make small talk now. Joey's really must have hit a nerve the other night. "Good use of colour. You have talent." 

"Okay, seriously, why did you come?" Joey asks. There's no way his dad is here, being this nice, without some ulterior motive. Slade doesn't say anything and doesn't look at him as he drinks his wine and looks around again. If it turns out there's someone dangerous here and his father's simply _let_ them wander around innocent people, Joey's going to do a lot more than give Slade an earful. 

"You're getting older," Slade says. Joey doesn't understand initially. Sure, Slade missed his birthday _last_ month but he's never cared about birthdays and Joey had long since given up on expecting anything from his father on them. Sometimes he shows up, sometimes he remembers, more often he doesn't. Has it finally hit Slade that Joey will be old long before he ever ages? Joey sighs. 

"Thanks for coming," he says. "I know it doesn't seem like it but it means a lot to me." Slade nods simply. "Here. There's some in the other hall I think you'll actually like." Whether or not that's true, Slade comes along. Joey shows him some more paintings, they drink more wine and have more cheese, and for as little as his father actually says, Joey is having a good time just being around him. It's been a long, long time since he's spent any time with his father that was 'just because'. In fact, Joey really can't remember _ever_ doing that with him. A part of him expects the other shoe to drop and the other part just wants to enjoy the time before it does. 

"And she looks really disappointed, right?" he goes on, naturally signing with his free hand. He's had a little more to drink than he had really planned but he's always held his liquor well and he's just pleasantly buzzed. Slade, of course, can't really get drunk and doesn't try. 

"I ask her what's wrong, the class went very well and she was a great model. She just kind of blinks at me? And she signs 'model? I thought this was the orgy'." Joey says and he laughs. It gets a small, amused chuckle out of his father which, needless to say, definitely brightens Joey up. 

"Not the brightest girl," he murmurs. 

"Oh no," Joey agrees. "Sweetest thing but absolutely dumb as rocks. She still comes back now and again for our life drawings, though. She likes having people drawing pictures of her. I don't think she's used to so many trans people in the same area let alone so casually? A lot of our models find it really nice- rewarding, even." 

"You've always been like that," Slade assures. "Good at making people feel- good." Joey snorts a quiet laugh and he smiles at his dad. 

"Should I read between the lines and take that to mean I make you feel 'good'?" he asks. Slade scoffs but he doesn't answer and Joey pats him heavily on the back of the neck before pulling him closer to give him an affection kiss on the cheek. Slade doesn't shrug him off, not like he used to, but he's too awkward and unfamiliar with such affections to really know how to respond to them. Nothing Joey isn't used to. 

"We should go," Joey says. "They always ask me to help with clean-up and I'm always too polite to tell them no." Slade smirks. He finishes his glass, making a whole two, and Joey finishes his making an entire amount he's definitely not kept count of. More than two, that's for sure. They slip out a side door without anyone noticing and the cool night air is a nice welcome from the stuffy, semi-crowded gallery. Joey heads out towards the main street and does a little turn that nearly makes him lose his balance. Considering Slade doesn't look disappointed in him yet, he must be more charming than anything else at the moment. Joey grins. 

"My loft is-" he looks around curiously and Slade points in a direction. Joey follows his lead. "That way, yeah." It's not far enough to bother with a cab and it's late enough that the streets aren't busy so they just walk quietly. When Joey stumbles more and sways, Slade grabs the back of his shirt to keep him upright. Joey leans into it, slouching on his father and making Slade stiffen briefly at the extended contact. Eventually, though, he wraps an arm around Joey's waist and helps keep him up as they walk. He grabs one of Joey's belt loops and Joey returns the favor by slipping a hand into one of Slade's back pockets. 

"Did you like the gallery?" he asks. 

"Yeah," Slade says. 

"Are you lying?" Joey asks. 

"Would I tell you if I was lying?" Slade replies mildly. 

"Probably," Joey murmurs. "Not like you've cared about my feelings before." Slade's silent once again. "Tell me which piece you liked, then. And not one of mine because I'm your son and that's cheating." There's a minute or two of just Slade musing quietly as they walk. Honestly, it's long enough that Joey would have just dropped it in normal circumstances. 

"'Patricide'," he finally answers. Joey nods thoughtfully. A piece by another trans man he teaches alongside; a photo in a frame of him and his family when he was younger. On top of the glass, he painted himself over his father and his own son over himself; painted newly smiling faces on his otherwise stoic family. Viewing it from an angle gives the slightest view of what's underneath like an eerie reminder of something rather forgotten. Joey likes that one, too. 

He wonders if he and his father like it for the same reasons. 

They take the elevator up to Joey's loft and the cool night has sobered him up a little. They're still arm in arm as he unlocks his front door, Joey now putting most of his weight on Slade knowing he can handle it. He doesn't remember when he started getting taller than Slade and definitely doesn't remember when he got so big. Maybe that's just because he also doesn't remember the last time he actually was this close to his father that wasn't a fight or a training session.

Once inside, Joey tosses his keys down and Slade steers him towards the couch. He sits but he grabs Slade's arm to pull him down, too. Slade makes a disgruntled noise and Joey grins as he begrudgingly sits. Joey shifts to get a little more comfortable before leaning over to his father and kissing him warmly on the mouth. For a second, Slade doesn't really seem to have an issue with this then his brain catches up to what's happening and he goes stone still. Then he's grabbing Joey's jaw in his hand and physically moving him away. 

" _Joseph_ ," he barks, a tone that he's somehow managed to avoid tonight until now. Joey licks his lips and reaches up to press his thumb into his father's palm to loosen his grip. 

"Not so rough," he murmurs. He tries to lean in for another kiss but Slade shoves him back harder this time, making him sit back. Joey pushes the hand off his face and Slade let's go only once he's sure there's enough distance between them. 

"You're drunk," Slade says sternly. Joey rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet. 

"I'm not drunk," he says. "I can hold my alcohol better than that but if it makes you feel better, I'll have some coffee first." He moves around to the kitchen and Slade glares at him the entire way. Joey doesn't really react, just goes about setting up the coffee pot to brew a pot. 

"I'm your father," Slade finally says. Joey snorts a laugh. 

"Don't try to pull that on me," he signs back. "Until I was eight, I thought Wintergreen was my dad. Then I only remember seeing your sporadically for several years then not at all for a long time after Grant died. _Then_ you showed up to try to kill my friends which, by the way, had nothing to do with me. I don't even think you knew I was among them." He can see his dad clenching his teeth together, firming his jaw in a way that makes his neck look very nice. Joey picks a spoon from a drawer and a carton of ice cream from the freezer and nonchalantly digs into it. 

"Just because you show up in my life when it's easy and convenient for you doesn't mean you get to be my 'father' when you feel like it," he says. Coffee drips. "You're free to leave whenever you want, just like you always do, and we'll pretend this never happened next time you come around." 

But Slade doesn't _run_ and he definitely doesn't _flee_ as much as Joey is sure this situation wants him to. Joey stares him down as he puts another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and Slade stares back. So maybe the wine has lowered his inhabitations a little but Joey doesn't particularly see that as a bad thing. 

"You want to _talk_? That's what this is about?" Slade says irritably. "What's there to talk about, Joseph?" 

"The fact that that's how you're reading this situation is hilarious," Joey replies in amusement. "You don't talk, pops. I know better." He's not that surprised that Slade just doesn't _get_ it. Why would he? He's never tried to get anything about Joey. Grant was always the favorite- the _first_. Now it's Rose, the precious youngest. Joey's long since come to terms with that. He pours himself some coffee and stirs in a spoonful of ice cream. 

"And how am I supposed to be reading this situation?" Slade asks. 

"Face it, pops, you're never going to be a father figure to me," Joey says. He doesn't say it to hurt but if the shoe fits, that's hardly his fault. "So I don't see what the problem is finding some common ground in a different kind of intimacy. You know, a way to reconnect in a way we were really never able to before." He drinks some of his coffee. 

"Just because you've decided to throw a tantrum doesn't mean I'm not still _biologically_ your father," Slade replies sourly. 

"Yeah, I'm the one throwing a tantrum," Joey says. He shrugs. "Whatever, pops. I’ve been done trying to convince you I’m worth your time for years. If you’re gonna go, go.” Slade doesn't jump at the chance, not like he was waiting for permission anyways, and Joey just finishes his cup of coffee while his father tries to do the mental gymnastics through the situation at hand. He's silent as ever, jaw firm though he's no longer staring at Joey like that's going to fix anything or intimidate him down from his position. Joey rinses out his cup and heads to take a shower. It's been a long night and he feels grimy from being around so many people. 

He's not that surprised to find Slade's still here, and still on his couch, when he gets out- though he seemingly has helped himself to coffee. He also has a newspaper now which, Joey assumes, he just carries with him because he's not sure where else his father could possibly always find a newspaper to read. Slade glances at him and Joey makes no effort to be coy. Clad in only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, Joey runs a thumb along one of the surgery scars on his chest. 

"Too bad I don't look more like mom," he signs. "Or maybe not considering how well that went for you." Slade withholds a scowl.

"Come here," he instructs in that voice that definitely doesn't actually work on Joey anymore. Nevertheless, Joey comes over to him and once more sits beside him on the couch, spreading his legs unnecessarily wide and settling in. Slade grabs his face and checks his eyes. Joey puts up with it briefly before shoving him off again. 

"I'm not drunk," he signs. "And I wasn't doing coke in the bathroom if that's what you're looking for." However Slade is trying to play this off so he can ignore it, is on him. Joey knows exactly what he's doing and more importantly, why. 

“When was the last time you did Oxy?” Slade asks as if he’s suddenly cared about _that_ ever. Joey gives him a bland look. 

“Last week,” he signs sarcastically. Slade doesn’t look amused. “Stop looking for excuses.” Joey doesn’t think he’s all that surprised when, for once, Slade actually listens to him but perhaps that’s simply because his bar is so low. Again, his father grabs his face but it’s less rough this time and more to give him whatever illusion of control he needs to actually go through with this. The kiss is chaste and- exactly what Joey expected from his father, honestly. He does briefly follow when Slade pulls away but restrains himself. There’s a certain amusement he gets from being the one to have to ease his father into something. 

When a moment passes and Slade doesn’t do anything else, Joey finally leans forward to kiss him again, that same warm kiss from earlier. This time, he isn’t pushed away and Joey shifts upright more to get some leverage. His father definitely isn't a great kisser but it's reflective of how he is normally, at least; chilly but to the point. He tastes like coffee, black of course, and pennies- not blood, Joey doesn't think, but a metallic tang he'd assume was a filling if he didn't know his father had perfect teeth. Joey wraps an arm around his neck as he tries to warm Slade's frosty exterior with heated kisses. It seems to work, surprisingly enough, and Slade wraps an arm around his waist to pull him closer. He even stops trying to 'conquer' Joey's mouth with his tongue after a bit and lets him do some of the work. 

Joey moves into his lap between kisses, straddling Slade's thighs and bracing his arms on the back of the couch to add new depth to their kiss. He rolls his hips forward and is actually pleasantly surprised to find his father already growing hard. He wonders if Slade has simply resigned to imagining he's someone else or if he's simply realised he's not as morally opposed to this as he wants to pretend to be. Joey grinds down against him and Slade growls lowly against his mouth. He reaches down to unbutton his jeans and with some shifting between them, Joey pulls his hard cock out. He's far from caught off guard about how well endowed his dad is and was expecting as much. 

He's been able to admit to himself his fantasies about his father's nicely shaped, heavy cock for a while now. 

Joey strokes him slowly and really feels him out. It feels good in his hand; it feels good having his father’s attention solely on him. Precum sticks to the tip and Joey rumbles a deep noise of content into their kiss. He tugs the towel around his waist loose and allows it to fall away before reaching to rub his clit with the sticky precum. When he breaks their kiss, Slade closes his eye as if to avoid looking. Joey shifts forward more until he can rub his hot, slick cunt against the side of his father's hard cock and Slade tilts his head back with a deep exhale. He grinds against his father with slow flicks of the hips and dips down to mouth at his exposed throat. He can feel it twitch and throb and Slade finally moves his hands to grip Joey's thighs. 

Slade isn't looking at him, though. Joey's suddenly annoyed at the thought that he might be thinking of someone else after all or that he's just doing this to placate Joey somehow. He moves back to kiss Slade's mouth and pulls his head back until his father is looking at him again. Slade is definitely trying not to look. Joey rolls his hips up until he feels the fringe grind against his clit and he rubs against the tip but doesn’t let it in. He groans as he feels the girth of it, heavy and hard and dripping pre for him. Finally, Slade’s gaze drops and his grip on Joey’s thighs tightens briefly. Joey shudders and his pussy is so wet, his father’s cock is dripping in his slick now. 

He moves quicker, holding Slade’s cock between his dripping lips and occasionally allowing the tip to catch inside him but still not letting it in. His dad is a smart man, though, and he quickly picks up on the goading. Strong hands suddenly grip Joey even tighter, stilling his movements and making Joey grab the back of the couch again to brace. A thumb coasts over his clit and Joey's knees twitch as he rumbles out another deep groan. All the teasing has made him sensitive, too. 

"Pops," Joey signs and Slade lets out a heated growl. "More." If Slade hesitates, it's not for very long. He lifts Joey just enough so he can slide his thumb down and press the tip of his cock properly against his aching cunt. Joey grips the back of Slade's neck and his breath hitches minutely as the impressive girth spreads him apart. Fuck it feels good. He sinks down further, toes curling in pleasure, but Slade holds him back and Joey makes a noise of disagreement that's swiftly silenced when his father actually starts moving. Even only using a few inches, as thick as he is and as wet as Joey is, it's a lot all at once. Joey claws the back of Slade's neck with one hand. 

"Deeper, pops," he signs with the other. His father, previously not wanting to look at all, is now only doing that; watching where they connect as he fucks Joey down onto his cock. Though he obligates, it's at his own pace- unsurprisingly. He pulls Joey down a little more each time like he's not actually sure Joey can take it all and Joey, for the most part, lets him lead for now. It is bigger than he's strictly used to but it's not the biggest he's taken and the sensation of being slowly stretched open by his father's cock is amazing. 

Joey rocks down against his grip until he feels the hard tip prod the back of his pussy. Craving more of _that_ sensation, he fights his dad for control of their coupling. Slade growls lowly as Joey thrusts down harder and groans each time he feels it jab his womb. He eventually wins out or, rather, Slade eventually gives in and suddenly changes from holding him back to pulling him down in full. Joey sucks in a surprised gasp as his father's achingly hard cock is suddenly slammed inside him, going from prodding to full on pressed into his cervix. He mouths a silent curse and rolls his eyes back briefly at the sheer pleasure.

It feels so big inside him, stretching him so wide and deep he swears his stomach is bulging with it. Sure enough, when he glances down he can see the small bump of his father's cock in his belly. Joey groans weakly. His dad's thick cock is inside him, pressed up against his womb, leaking precum, and completely raw. Slade closes his eye again. 

"Damn," he snarls hotly. Joey reaches down and briefly coasts his hand over the bump in his stomach before pinching his clit. He rubs himself off feverishly, grinding down against Slade's cock and groaning as he feels it rub hard up against his cervix. It doesn't take much to get himself to orgasm from there, arching forward to catch his father's lips again as he comes. Slade grips his hips so hard, Joey's sure he'll bruise. 

"Fuck," Slade growls. Joey starts moving in earnest now, gripping his father's shoulders in the same firm hold for leverage as he rides him slow and steady at first and then quicker and rougher. His father really is well hung and in this position, every deep thrust jabs Joey's womb so roughly it's nearly enough to make him see stars. It takes Slade a few minutes but he eventually comes to realise that Joey is more than capable of taking it and roughly at that. He begins to work with Joey, pulling and pushing his hips and digging his fingers into Joey's soft flesh all the while. 

His dad's strength is still superior, however, and when he suddenly pins Joey down it nearly draws a broken whine from him. Slade's cock shoves painfully against his cervix when he comes and not only is it hot and _deep_ but there's a lot of it. He claws Slade's shoulders and groans at the sensation, feeling it flood his womb and quickly begin to leak out. When his father finally loosens his grip, Joey slowly picks his hips up and feels the rush of cum drip down his thighs. Slade came in him so much; he feels so full of it. 

More importantly, Slade's still solid erect. This, Joey didn't expect as much. He figured his dad would have a short recuperation period but just _staying_ hard? That's a pleasant surprise. Then again, Joey supposes he got his stamina from somewhere. Slade's watching the cum run down his thighs and though his expression is otherwise unreadable, it's not vacant. Likewise, Joey has good stamina but his father is simply completely unaffected while Joey's panting a bit to catch his breath and still hot in the face. He pushes a pair of fingers into himself to feel how stretched and messy his own father's left him. Slade's jaw firms. Joey gets out of his lap and he can definitely feel the sensation of cum stuffed all the way in his womb. 

"Again?" Joey signs. Slade doesn't answer immediately and Joey heads for his bed instead. Hearing his dad get up to follow him is answer enough. He hops onto the edge and watches with a smug little grin as Slade tugs his shirt off over his head. 

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," Slade comments. Joey huffs a laugh as he comes closer. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? He knows his father too well. Joey places his hands on Slade's chest briefly to appreciate it. He can already see the bruises starting to form on both of them. 

"I'll try, pops," he signs back in amusement. He actually sees Slade shudder. Oh, he really is getting off on the taboo of this, isn't he? "Come on. Fill me up, pops. Just like you did mom." That gets another deep, _hot_ , feral growl out of Slade. Joey spreads his thighs and uses a pair of fingers to show off his messy cunt. Slade grabs his legs and all at once, thrusts back inside. Joey twists in pleasure and falls back on his forearms to brace himself. This angle makes it much easier for him to see and sure enough, watching his father's heavy cock shove inside him again and again, making his belly bulge with its size, gets Joey hot all over again. He's so wet with cum and his own slick, the sound is beyond lewd. 

"Yes, yes, yes," Joey signs in encouragement and he rocks his hips into each thrust as much as he can. Giving his father leverage to do all the work this time really changes the game. It's quick and rough and Joey keens in pleasure as Slade does his damnedest to rearrange Joey's womb with his cock. He's not ashamed to admit it now but this was definitely what he was missing from all his prior lackluster relationships. Not that he hasn't had good sex but pops really does know best, doesn't he? Joey puts a hand on his lower stomach and groans weakly as he feels Slade fuck into him. 

Slade presses a thumb against his clit and it's not long until Joey finds another orgasm, arching against the bed with a wounded sound. His father isn't far behind this time, once more gripping him tight like he's trying to make sure he gets it all in. Joey groans louder as he's stuffed with more thick cum. He can't believe there's still so much of it. 

He especially can't believe his dad's _still_ hard. Slade pulls out slow but Joey can feel how rock solid it is the entire time and he stares at it standing upright between his sloppy thighs. He feels like it's going to be a very long night if he lets it- and Joey is pretty engaged to that idea right now. He watches as Slade finally shrugs out of his jeans and with some maneuvering, they climb up onto the bed more fully. Fortunately, it doesn't need to be said that Joey is definitely interested in more and whatever uncertainty Slade had, _if_ he actually had any, is all but gone. 

Joey wraps an arm around Slade's neck to kiss him again before changing into a more comfortable position on his stomach. His father mounts him again without hesitation, sliding his hard cock back into his tender cunt in a single thrust. It definitely feels deeper in this position but maybe that's just his sensitivity starting to kick in. He typically has trouble getting to one orgasm let alone two and definitely never this quick so it makes sense that his nerves are high strung but that doesn't deter him. Slade brings an arm around his throat, not tight in any way, and Joey leans into it. 

This time he leaves his dad to do all the work. Perhaps knowing he's a little more sensitive now or maybe just not wanting to hurt him, Slade takes it slower this time. Joey can feel his chest vibrate against him whenever he rumbles a noise out and every deep grind makes him groan in response. It's far more intimate and far more contact than he thinks he's had with his father ever and it's easy to get into. Even as he starts moving slightly quicker, Joey moans along eagerly as they rock together against the mattress. 

"Fuck," Slade grunts quietly. Joey whimpers when his dad comes inside him unexpectedly. He feels so full, packed with cum and drooling it down. Definitely making Slade pay to replace his sheets, that's for certain. This time, Slade only pauses before he's right back at it. Joey reaches back to find a handhold in Slade's hair and strokes the nape of his neck with a thumb, an assurance to keep going. Which his father gladly does even as Joey briefly falls asleep. 

When he awakens again, it's to his father's still solid cock pumping more cum into him and Slade all but nuzzled into the back of his head. Joey arches back against him weakly, tightening his loose grip in his father's hair and groaning out a noise. He feels uncomfortably swollen with his dad's cum now. He signs to stop and Slade does, gently pulling out again and leaving Joey feeling empty for it. His father's hard on is finally starting to waiver but he isn't soft yet. 

Joey shifts under him, keeping a grip on Slade's hair so he doesn't move away while he gets onto his back beneath him instead. Once he's rolled over, he reaches down to guide his father's cock back inside him and Slade slowly pushes back inside to the hilt. Joey wraps his arms around his neck to kiss him lazily and close. Slade rubs his clit again, easing him into another orgasm that leaves Joey shuddering and even more lethargic than before. 

It doesn't surprise him when he looks between them to find a swollen knot in his stomach where he's been stuffed again and again with his dad's cum. It feels good; Slade's hard cock pressed firmly up against his cervix still, filled absolutely stuffed, tangled together in the sheets. When he had first started having reluctant fantasies about Slade, he understandably never thought he'd get this far or if he did, he figured he'd immediately regret it and be filled with guilt. Joey definitely isn't. Also not very surprising. 

But, he supposes, it probably doesn't help that he doesn't remember ever being so openly shown affection like this from his father before. Which he does realise is fucked up but it was a little late for that since the very beginning. As always, all they can really do is patchwork some solutions together into a bigger mess that at least holds water. Joey is, admittedly, pretty fond of this particular solution. 

Slade kisses him back hard enough that Joey's mouth even feels red and he groans hotly as he comes again and Joey finally feels his cock starting to flag. He doesn't pull out immediately, and Joey's sure it's not solely because they're so tangled together, but instead keeps still and keeps kissing Joey silly like he's finally accepting this as an appropriate substitution for expressing some feelings he otherwise is absolutely terrible at doing otherwise. Joey draws his hands down Slade's back and grips his shoulder blades as his father starts to relax again. He's heavy but not particularly uncomfortable and for a while, neither of them make an effort to move. 

Joey eventually falls asleep first and only blearily wakes up when Slade moves around before going back to sleep. A part of him expects his father to have fled in the night but when he wakes up in the morning, Slade's still here. Joey looks at him sleepily as he pulls his shirt back on at the edge of the bed. Slade glances back when he realises Joey's awake. He stares and Joey offers him a far too pleased smile. Slade looks away. 

"Coffee?" he says. Clearly he plans on making it anyway since he doesn't look back for a reply. Which is all the same to Joey. While his father makes coffee, Joey sits up and uncovers himself. He needs a shower before anything else; the inside of his thighs are a gross, sticky mess of cum and slick and he can feel the dried sweat on his skin. He's well stretched from the fucking his dad gave him and the bump in his belly hasn't gone away in the slightest, making Joey shudder when he clenches his stomach. He really is _packed_ with his dad's cum. Slade glances over at him halfly. 

"You should take an emergency contraceptive on top of your birth control," he says. Joey gives him a puzzled look. 

"I don't take birth control," he signs back. Slade shatters one of his coffee mugs in his bare hand. Joey snorts a laugh as he reclines back on his side. "Pops, I had a dual oophorectomy like three years ago. Relax." Slade gives him an unamused look before looking down to the pieces of ceramic he's spread all over the floor. Joey grins as he picks up some of the bigger pieces. 

"Shower?" Joey asks. 

"No," Slade replies and Joey presses his lips. He has to wait for his father to turn towards him again to press further. 

"You're not going to 'this never happens again' me, are you?" he asks irritably. 

"No," Slade repeats, more firm. He glances over Joey briefly before turning away again to resume cleaning up his mess. "But you need more rest before we consider- anything else." Okay, he might have a good point there. Joey is pretty sore still even if it's not anything worse than his hero work soreness, just in different places. He supposes he shouldn't expect a complete overhaul of Slade's personality just from this. Sex is still a very different intimacy from showering together- Joey guesses? Fuck if he knows how his dad's reasoning works. 

Slade _is_ gone when he gets out of the shower, unsurprisingly. Joey's just glad he never plans anything after art shows anyways. 


End file.
